


Break Me (Out of This Cage)

by DoctorProfessor



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Blood, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Shiro-centric, Whump, mentions of torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-01
Updated: 2017-03-01
Packaged: 2018-09-27 17:39:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10036514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoctorProfessor/pseuds/DoctorProfessor
Summary: The instinct to survive is a powerful one. It doesn't take into account friendship or promises, it doesn't care about love, it pays no attention to right and wrong. Stay alive, keep running, keep fighting, bite and claw and tear your way to freedom.





	

The instinct to survive is a powerful one. It doesn't take into account friendship or promises, it doesn't care about love, it pays no attention to right and wrong. Stay alive, keep running, keep fighting, bite and claw and tear your way to freedom. Thoughts come through like a bad signal on an old radio, more static than sound.

Blood on the floor at his feet, he thinks it's his but memory is an impossible dream at this point. There's a burning in his side where he's clutching tightly, but it's as though he's feeling it from a great distance away. Copper coats his teeth, the taste liquid and slippery on his tongue. He keeps losing time.

His breathing comes fast and sharp, panic trying to numb his thoughts and his limbs, but he can't let it. He can't get caught, he can't go back, he won't- he wrenches his mind away from the edge and tries to think past the buzzing in his head. Whatever he'd been injected with must be strong, he thinks, some new concoction dreamt up by the druids to test on their Champion, their precious experiment.

"My greatest weapon," Haggar's oily voice echoes around him, through him, burrows into his bones. His fingers begin to tremble as they press wetly into his side. His eyes dart around the corridor, but there's an absence of glowing eyes or the cold rusty smell of old blood and fear. No Haggar. No guards - yet. He knows he's running out of time, knows he needs to move, find a way out of this place.  
There's the muffled sound of running and voices in the distance, and he can't afford to stay hidden in this tiny alcove any longer. Ignoring the wrong feeling in his knee and the way his prosthetic hangs inertly at his side, he lurches towards the nearest door.

He doesn't question why he seems to know the layout of the ship. Everything is vaguely familiar, but the haze of fear and pain pushes him back further into memories of thick chains and fire that burns so hot it feels cold. Roughly shaking his head to dispel those images, he focuses on putting one foot in front of the other. He's been marched and dragged through enough halls and airlocks that knowing the way to the hangar is practically instinctual, he rationalizes.

The voices are getting closer, and he's still so far from freedom. Thoughts like fine grains of sand slip from his grasp and panic once again threatens to steal the breath from his lungs. He blinks and he's on the ground. Black spots dance in front of his eyes, and he knows there's not much left of him to fight with. He can see the obvious trail of blood leading the enemy to him like a glaring neon sign. Hot tears sting as they threaten to fall. Maybe if he begs for death, they'll give it to him this time. The Galra despise weakness, they'd rather cut out the nebulous cancer than let it fester. He's spent all this time being strong, maybe if he's weak they'll finally let him rest. The faint sound of the door opening rings like a death knell in his ears.

"I've found him!" followed by excited shouts, pounding footsteps.

Tears cloud his vision, and a blurry shadow crouches next to him while still shouting at others in the distance.

"Please," his voice cracks, and he has to try again before getting the sound out.

"Shiro?" a voice says. He knows that voice. But in his mind, Haggar's triumphant cry overlays with Matt's desperate plea mixes in with Keith's panicked shout until his name is too big and too loud for him to bear.

"Kill me," he begs. "Please, I c-can't-" he cuts off around a sob. He tries futilely to drag his metal arm closer to his body, to curl up in a defensive ball. He can't go back. He can't. He's so tired, of fighting and running and bleeding and surviving. He just wants it to stop.

"Oh god, Shiro- hang on, we're gonna get you all- all fixed up. Ok? So I need you to just, just stay with me. Please, Shiro, just stay with me." The voice sounds so sad, desperate and afraid. He cracks his eyes open - when had he closed them? - and sees dark hair over a bright red jacket. Confusion is quickly overtaken by profound relief. Thoughts of freedom and safety chase him into unconsciousness.

**Author's Note:**

> Shout out to @Bosstoaster, this is for them.
> 
> Edit: decided to leave this as a one-shot, I like the way this ended. Thanks everyone for reading!!


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